you've got a warm heart, you've got a beautiful brain
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: She never lets a call from May go to voicemail.


A/N: I'm not quite sure how this happened but I've become very invested in Jemma and Melinda's relationship, especially regarding what's going on with Fitz. So, this is a little ficlet thing that begins pre-season two and finishes around the time Jemma comes back. There's a little background Philinda and hints of Skimmons, if you squint. Story title from Medicine by Daughter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>The first time May calls her, she panics, thinking something terrible has happened.<p>

She's babbling she knows, but she doesn't know how to process anything else awful happening to Fitz, so she starts asking questions, too fast for anyone, even May, to comprehend. She's gasping in a breath, about to continue, when May simply says her name, quieting her.

"Jemma."

It's become so commonplace to be called Simmons that it's almost odd to hear her first name, especially in Melinda May's calm, quiet voice. Her breath catches and she tries to calm down, chest deflating as she exhales completely.

"I'm sorry, Agent May, I didn't mean to-"

"You don't have to apologize, Jemma," May cuts her off, voice still gentle, and Jemma clutches the phone a little tighter. "And you don't have to keep calling me Agent May. Melinda, or just May, is fine."

The request catches her off guard, but a pleased warmth settles in her chest. The idea of calling her Melinda is just too strange, so she settles for just May, allowing her lips to curl up into a small smile as she settles back into the chair she'd shot out of when May had called.

"Okay…May," she responds, allowing the smile to grow as she tangles her fingers in the end of her ponytail. "Has something happened with Fitz, is he alright?"

"He's as good as you can expect him to be," May replies, and her voice sounds sad- sadder than Jemma has ever heard her voice before. It causes an ache in her chest she can't quite place or explain. "He misses you. I could have sworn I heard him say your name today."

Jemma closes her eyes, the heaviness in her lungs threatening to steal her breath.

"I just thought you'd want to know how he's doing," May continues, with something someone who didn't know her would call hesitation in her voice, and Jemma straightens, touched by the older woman's concern. "I know Skye's been busy and hasn't had a chance to call and Coulson-"

"Thank you," Jemma says, interrupting her before she can continue. "Thank you, May."

"I'll talk to you next week, Jemma," is all she gets in response, though there's a hint of a smile in May's voice before the phone clicks off.

* * *

><p>The next time, she's expecting the phone call, so she doesn't embarrass herself <em>quite<em> as much.

"Hello May," she says, voice cautiously cheerful as she settles into her desk chair and tucks her knees under herself. She aches to be back on the Bus, with the others- with her _family_- but she knew (or at least she thought she knew) Fitz needed this, so she was at least trying to allow herself to look for happiness while she was away. Skye had called earlier and it was a bit like being home- she'd laughed, really, truly laughed for the first time in weeks- and now she had May quietly informing her of Fitz's latest work on the cloaking technology and interspersing the sadness of his struggles with an anecdote about him trying to make cookies with Skye in the Playground's kitchen.

There's a lapse in the conversation- not an awkward one, just a moment of quiet as May finishes her story and Jemma has nothing really to share other than her research, which would bore even May to tears. She hears the older woman inhale, and rushes to speak before she can say goodbye.

"How are you?"

May is quiet, and Jemma wonders how long it's been since someone asked her even that simple question.

"I'm fine," May replies after a moment, and they both know she's not telling the truth, but this is still too new for Jemma to contradict her, so she simply hums thoughtfully and allows May to end the phone call not long after.

The next phone call comes only four days later this time, and Jemma finds she likes the irregularity of it- likes that it forces her to take a moment for herself, no matter what she's doing.

She never lets a call from May go to voicemail.

* * *

><p>"You know what I miss?"<p>

Jemma is startled slightly by the abrupt greeting, but takes it in stride, because learning new things about May is something she's come to enjoy about their conversations.

"I miss flying the Bus."

Jemma smiles, clutching her phone a little tighter. It's not hard to imagine how frustrating May finds being grounded; she always seems much more at peace when they're in the skies, when she's sitting behind the controls of the plane.

"I miss the lab," she admits, scratching absently at her wrist. "I miss working with a partner. It isn't the same to be on your own when you're used to being part of a pair."

There's silence over the line save May's breathing for a moment, and before Jemma can think of anything to break it, May speaks, quietly and with a slight hesitation that disappears the most she speaks.

"He misses you, Jemma. We all miss you."

Jemma's eyes sting and she closes them against the sudden tears, overwhelmed and lonely and homesick for a place that only months ago she never would have considered home.

"I miss you all too. Very much."

* * *

><p>Jemma doesn't hear from May for over a week, and for the first time, calls her.<p>

May answers, voice hoarse and soft, and Jemma feels her chest ache at how much pain she sounds like she's in.

"It's just a few bruised ribs, Jemma," she says, and the way she says it reminds Jemma that to Melinda May, a few bruised ribs means almost nothing. There are a few shuffling noises on May's end, and the low murmuring of multiple voices- it's later than they usually call, but Jemma had been worried and not thinking about the time when she'd called.

"_It's Jemma, Phil_," she hears May say distantly, and feels guilty for eavesdropping for a moment. "_I'll come to bed when I'm done._"

Jemma stays quiet, letting the information only ten words told her wash over her before May returned her attention to the phone call. It doesn't surprise her- anyone with eyes could tell that there had once been something between May and Agent (Director, she mentally corrects herself) Coulson and always would be. The idea that they've found each other in the mess their lives have become recently makes her smile, and she bids May goodnight after only a few more minutes of conversation, once she'd affirmed the older woman truly was okay other than a handful of bruised ribs.

She's barely ended the phone call before she's dialing Skye, words tumbling from her mouth the moment she picks up.

* * *

><p>The next time she calls May, it's at a much earlier hour with much happier news; she's beaming and bouncing with excitement, hands barely holding her phone steady to her ear.<p>

"I'm coming back!" are the first words out of her mouth, and she rushes to continue before May can even respond. "I've been on the phone with Fitz all morning, and he sounds almost like himself again, he only missed two words! He asked for me to come back and I think it's time. I want to come back."

Jemma pauses a moment to breathe, brushing her hair out of her face, frowning slightly at the silence on May's end. "May? You don't think I'm doing the wrong thing, do y-"

"We'll be glad to have you back, Jemma," May says, in that quiet voice that sounds like she's smiling. "All of us."

Jemma beams, clutching the phone closer to her ear, bouncing on her toes again. "I arrive Thursday morning."

"We'll be waiting for you."

* * *

><p>They really are all waiting for her when she gets off the plane, and she flushes, pleased to see them all so much it aches, in the best way possible. Skye is the first one to reach her, wrapping her in a hug that's tight and warm and Jemma burrows into it for a moment, smelling hairspray and metal and Skye.<p>

"Missed you," she whispers in her ear and is rewarded with an even tighter squeeze before she's released, and standing in front of her is May, dark eyes radiating warmth, lips curved into a real, genuine smile.

Jemma hugs her before she overthinks it, relief filling her when the older woman returns it, rubbing her back and holding her tightly. Jemma sighs softly, hands clutching at the back of May's soft black shirt tightly before releasing her, stepping back somewhat reluctantly. Hands settle on her shoulders as May looks at her, smile still firmly in place.

"Welcome home, Jemma."


End file.
